The Other Chosen One
by SonnyBob
Summary: What if Neville Longbottom had posed the biggest threat to Voldemort? How would his life be different? This story follows Neville's life from his eleventh birthday. Very AU. Rated K. WILL NOT BE UPDATED ANY LONGER. Apologies to all readers.
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own the rights to Harry Potter (why would I be posting stories on the Internet if I did?) or any other character from the Harry Potter series in this story.  
The story is very AU. The idea has been nagging at me since book 5 when we found out the prophecy could apply to either Harry or Neville. And please review if you read this because, even if there's something you think I could change, it really helps.  
Thanks in advance.**

The child was just a little older than a year when his parents died. It was Halloween night, and although the streets were packed with trick-or-treaters, nobody saw anything unusual.

It was no accident - they weren't Muggles who had a tendency to be accident-prone - but the emergency services who arrived at the scene shortly after thought that it was. After all, there were supposed to be four people in the house, and they found four bodies.

The only thing which puzzled them was the fact that they had four adult bodies. One of them should have been that of a young child.

The police guessed there must have been some mistake, maybe the child was with family or friends, and thought nothing more of it. They had no evidence as the house was burnt to the ground and the bodies burnt beyond all identification, but apart from the missing body of the child, it all fit perfectly.

_There was an accident, _the head detective had decided,_ one which had destroyed a family. Perhaps they had left a candle unattended. These things happened at this time of the year. Or maybe it was that they were cooking dinner on the stove and got distracted by calling trick-or-treaters._ And so the case was closed.

He did, however, feel sorry for the family. They were good people, never had any trouble from them, always friendly to those around them. They didn't deserve something like this, a horrible end.

Ten years later, the detective was still horrified by the family's demise and thought about them often. Tonight he thought about them because he knew the missing child should have been around the same age as his own son - ten, almost eleven, years old and about to start secondary school, with his whole life ahead of him.

Forty miles away, the child awoke with a start.

--

Gasping for breath, Neville Longbottom rolled over in his little bunk. He'd been having that nightmare again, the one with the green light and the insane laughter. He dreamt that there was a man who wanted to save him, and a man who wanted to kill him. Although he knew it wasn't real and he'd seen this scene played out in his head hundreds of times before, Neville felt sick and shivered.

There were also two women in the dream, but he was sure he'd never dreamt of the women before. One of them had cried out, and flung herself in front of him, ignoring his cries for her to save herself. And the body crumpled at the foot of the staircase, Neville was certain he'd never dreamt of that before.

Rolling onto his side with a sigh, Neville laid his head on the hard pillow and huddled under the thin duvet provided by the orphanage. He was sleeping again in no time.

The following morning, Neville woke to bright sunlight pouring in through the window, and the laughter of the other boys who shared his dorm room, gathered around the foot of his bed.

"Save me! Save me! My name's Neville Longbottom and I can't do anything myself!" sneered one of them. The rest giggled. Neville felt his face flush and looked at the floor.

"You're eleven, it's time you started acting like it. So stop believing that you have family somewhere and they're coming to get you coz you ain't got no family. Nobody wants you, Scarhead. Just like the rest of us," one of the older boys spat bitterly.

"Now, now, children. It's breakfast time, so get up and go have your food," Mrs Arrans called, peering around the door. Neville liked Mrs Arrans. She ran the orphanage where he'd grown up and was always nice to him, even though the others weren't.

"Come on, Neville."

Neville looked up. The other children were gone and Mrs Arrans was smiling at him. She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed across her chest, just waiting, as though she had all the time in the world.

"Do I have to go to breakfast with them?" Neville hated the other children. They all thought he was a freak and laughed at the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Neville didn't know how he had gotten the scar, nobody did. He'd just been left on the doorstep of the orphanage one night, scar and all, with a letter tucked under his blanket. Unfortunately, he'd never been allowed to read this letter.

Mrs Arrans smiled. "Sadly, yes. Come along, dear."

Neville sighed and flung his legs out of the bunk.

"One more thing Neville," Mrs Arrans said softly. "Happy birthday, dear. I have something for you. Later." She winked and left without a backward glance.

Neville smiled a little. He was eleven now. He would be starting at the local secondary school this year and maybe he would have more friends there and people wouldn't care that he was a freak with no family. But then again, maybe it would still be the same and people would laugh and he would have no friends.

It was hard to be a eleven-year-old, especially when you were an orphan. And it was even more difficult when you had a funny scar and strange things always seemed to happen to you, even though you had no idea why they did.


	2. Family

After breakfast, Neville went into town to get away from everyone. As he had very little money to spend, he spent most of his time in the mall looking through shop windows. A few times people looked at him with a peculiar look on their face. One man in a long blue cloak even walked up to Neville and quietly wished him a happy birthday, then seemed to disappear when Neville looked back over his shoulder at him. It was very odd, but odder things had happened in the past.

Taking a seat in a café, Neville sipped his vanilla milkshake and thought back over all the odd things that had been happening to him lately. Only last month, when he was being chased by the school bullies he somehow managed to end up at the top of a fire escape with no memory of how he got there. And then there was the time when he was 7 and other boys at the orphanage were making fun of him for having an 'accident' one night. The very next night, every boy who had made fun of Neville had their own little accidents. Mrs Arrans had shook her head and said, "Boys… I don't know! Get your sheets into the washer, and please try not to let it happen again." The boys had sworn in was something to do with Neville, but Mrs Arrans had told them to be quiet and even threatened to stop everybody's £10 money allowance for that week if they spoke one more word against Neville.

Neville was lost in his own dreamland, wondering what all the odd things meant and what he could do to prevent them from happening when he was interrupted by Sophie Smith. Sophie was the most popular girl in school, even though she had lived in the same orphanage as Neville before being fostered by a family from across the street, and it was his aim in life to be just like her; well-liked regardless of his lack of family and money.

"Neville! I thought I'd find you here. I was just round visiting Katie and Mrs Arrans said she's looking for you. She said I was to give you this and tell you that she has something important that she needs to talk about, so you better get your backside home right now."

Sophie grinned and handed Neville an envelope and a small package before pecking him swiftly on the cheek, wishing him a happy birthday and dancing off into the crowd.

Neville slurped his way through the rest of his milkshake and counted the loose change in his pocket. He had just enough to get the bus back to the orphanage, which made him very happy. He followed Sophie into the crowd and headed towards to exit so he could wait for his bus.

--

As he was waiting for the bus, Neville watched a family walk by on the other side of the road. There was a woman with long red hair, laughing and talking to a boy around the same age as Neville. The boy looked exactly like his father, both of whom had untidy black hair, glasses and were quite tall and thin. They were carrying an assortment of bags and parcels, and some of the parcels were very oddly shaped. The boy noticed Neville watching him and turned to his mother, saying something in a very excited manner. The red-haired woman looked at Neville, and Neville could see the look of sympathy on her kind face. He didn't have to worry about the family for long though. The bus arrived at the bus stop, Neville climbed on board and took his seat by the window. When he pressed his nose to the window to look at the family, they had disappeared. He looked down at the envelope Sophie had given him, it was signed from her and contained a card and a gift voucher for one free game at the local bowling alley. Then he carefully tore the wrapping paper from the small package. It was a beautiful box, red with gold swirls and stars on it. Intrigued, Neville opened the box. Inside the box was a ring and a short note written in a flowing hand on heavy yellowing paper:

'_I managed to rescue this from your parents house and thought you might like to have it. It is a family heirloom which was passed from your grandmother to your mother. Take good care of it, and I expect to see you soon.'_

Neville tore his eyes away from the note to examine the ring. It was very beautiful - a golden band with one small, perfectly cut ruby-red gem in the centre ringed by several smaller diamonds.

His mothers… This ring had been his mothers.

Was this some sort of ridiculous joke someone at the orphanage had dreamt up to wind him up, or was the ring genuinely his mothers?

Neville knew he had to talk with Mrs Arrans at once.

--

When he got off the bus at the corner of Seymour Road, Neville raced back to the orphanage, determined to find out what his present meant.

No sooner had he sprinted through the front door than he bumped into Mrs Arrans.

"Neville, dear, do watch where you are going! You gave me quite a start there," Mrs Arrans laughed.

"Yes, sorry. I… I just want to ask you about… that package?"

Mrs Arrans smiled. "Yes, Neville. It's time we talked about that."

She lead him into her office and closed the door tight. She looked around at him and said, "Well, go on. Take a seat, lovie. I'm not going to bite, I just want to talk."

Neville perched nervously on the edge of a chair and Mrs Arrans walked around to the other side of her desk and sat facing Neville.

Her brown eyes twinkled, and Neville had a sudden unexplained rush of gratitude towards her - he was happy that she was his carer, and not one of the foster families who had come to see him over the past ten years. He especially didn't like those ones who had came last week - the Diggles. Mr Diggle had seemed very preoccupied and both were a bit odd. Mr Diggle had wore a green cloak and purple top hat to the interview and Mrs Diggle had worn a kilt and striped pyjama top. Both had stared at Neville's scar throughout the interview. Neville was pleased Mrs Arrans had turned them down.

"Now, Neville. I think it's time I explained a bit about your family and how you came to end up in this orphanage."


	3. Explanations

**A/N: Usual disclaimers apply - I don't own any of the character from the Harry Potter universe, etc, etc.  
If I did, I would be very happy, very rich, and not have to post my stories online.**

**  
Alright, I'm going to be real annoying now and say that this is my last update until I get a few reviews.  
Come on people, I know that a few people have favourited this story, and I know that it has had a fair bit of traffic. So please, write a review.  
Just let me know if my writing's okay, if you like the concept, what I could change or improve, suggestions for where you think I should take the story, anything! Just give me a little feedback. Virtual cookies to anyone who does review!  
Now where was I? Oh yes. On with the update!!**

**-------------**

Neville's hands shook. Mrs Arrans knew about his family? Why had she never mentioned it before now? In fact, now that Neville thought about it, any time he had mentioned his parents, Mrs Arrans had looked at him with a pitying kind of expression and said she didn't know what had happened to them; just that she had woken up one morning to find a basket containing Neville on the doorstep and a note telling her the boy's name and asking her to take care of him. Neville didn't know whether to be shocked or upset by the news that she actually did know what happened to his family.

"Neville, I know this must be a shock to you, especially after me spending years saying I knew nothing of your family, but you have to see this from my point of view. It was a cold autumn morning, I found a child wrapped up and left on the doorstep and there was the most unusual note pinned to the blankets in the basket. Neville… I have a story to tell you, one which involves you and you must know it before you start school in September, and I am the only person who can tell you."

"But Mrs Arrans, I don't - "

"Hush, child. I have to tell you this. You have to understand this - it is crucial that you hear what I'm saying. It all started so long ago. I don't know how it began, and I'm not sure how to tell this to you, but you have got to know and understand! I guess I'll have to start with - "

" - An explanation, perhaps, of _who_ destroyed his family?"

Neville spun around in his seat so quickly that he lost his balance and almost fell off the chair. There was the most unusual man standing on the threadbare rug in front of the fireplace, and Neville had the impression that the man had just stepped out of the fireplace itself.

"Albus Dumbledore!" cried Mrs Arrans.

"Naturally," said Albus Dumbledore, looking over his half-moon spectacles with his piercing blue eyes, "if you are to explain to Neville what happened on that fateful night, you must be someone who knows all, or rather most, of the facts. And unfortunately, you do not. A great deal of mystery has always surrounded this particular boy and I feel it best that I explain to him, as I explained to you, Jane, on the night in question."

Dumbledore strode across the room to the door, pulling something out from his pocket and began tapping at the door. Satisfied, he turned to Neville and smiled gently. Neville's first impression of Dumbledore was that although he looked to be kind, if a little odd, he was the sort of man you didn't question and the sort of man who got things done properly. Dumbledore was wearing a long emerald green cloak, purple pinstriped trousers and a pair of heeled boots. His long silver hair was flowing down his back, although his equally long silver bear was tied with an elastic band and tucked into his belt.

"Now see here, Dumbledore. That's really uncalled for! I was trying to help the boy."

Neville was very confused. "Help me? Why do I need help?"

Mrs Arrans smiled kindly at him. "Because, dear, you need to understand a great deal about your history before you can go off to school and you need to fully understand what you are."

"What I am? But… I'm just Neville. I don't understand. And what history? Do I actually have family somewhere that you are going to send me away to or something?" Neville's shining, hopeful eyes looked between Mrs Arrans and Dumbledore, the latter of which smiled sadly at him.

"No, Neville. I'm afraid you don't have any family. But you must understand what I am about to tell you, for it is of the utmost importance. Neville Longbottom, you are a wizard - a very famous one, I may add, and it is the duty of those who care for you -" here Dumbledore paused to throw another piercing glance at Mrs Arrans - "to explain to you why you are so famous. It would not be advisable to send you off to Hogwarts not knowing."

Neville looked as though someone had just beaten him around the head with a saucepan. "A wizard? A famous wizard - me? But how can I be? I'm just an orphan who lives in a smelly orphanage with other smelly orphans. That's what everyone at school says," he finished miserably. "But what's Hogwarts?" he added after a moments pause.

"Neville Longbottom, of course you are a wizard. How could you not be with parents such as yours. Make no mistake, I taught them myself and most excellent students they were. Hogwarts is where young witches and wizards throughout Britain are send to study magic, to learn to control it and to understand more about their heritage and history," Dumbledore said quietly, fishing inside his cloak. He finally managed to find what he was looking for and extracted it with a flourish. Smiling, he held the yellowing envelope out to Neville.

"And now, I would like you to read your letter from Hogwarts before I take you someplace more private to explain all about your parents and yourself."

Neville took the envelope with shaking hands and weighed it. It felt rather heavy, heavier than a letter should be, and looked questioningly at Dumbledore. The old man merely smiled and nodded.


	4. Dumbledore

**A/N: Usual disclaimers apply.  
Okay, maybe I was a bit mean in the last chapter. I will update now.  
Please R&R. Thanks.**

Neville glanced down at the envelope. It was addressed in green ink to:  
_Mr N. Longbottom  
St Augusta's Orphanage  
27 Seymour Road  
Fulham_  
He turned the envelope over and saw that it was sealed by a blob of red wax stamped with a coat of arms. The coat of arms was very odd - a snake, a badger, a lion and an eagle surrounding the letter "H". Glancing again at Dumbledore, Neville broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out the letter. It was also made of the heavy yellowing paper. The letter was written in the same green ink as the envelope had been addressed in. Neville pulled the letter out and read through it very quickly; it was indeed a letter from Hogwarts informing him that he had a place at the school and that term started on the 1 September. It also mentioned that the school would "await your owl by no later than 31 July." Neville wondered what on earth that meant. How could anyone await an owl? Wondering again if this was a crazy joke, Neville flipped through the paper and realised that there was a second sheet. It contained details of his uniform, set books and other equipment, and had a reminder to parents that first-years must not have their own broomstick. Neville chuckled to himself and shook his head, before he realised that all eyes in the room were upon him. He looked up from his letter to discover that Mrs Arrans was sitting in her chair behind the desk, arms crossed and a rather unpleasant look on her face. Dumbledore was standing by the door, looking over the tops of his glasses again, wearing a small smile.

"And now that you have read your letter, I believe it is time that I explained things to you more fully."

Dumbledore crossed the room in a few strides and offered his arm to Neville.

"I would like to take you somewhere more private, and this is the quickest way. Please do not be alarmed or panic. And hold tightly to my arm at all times, or I may lose you."

Unsure what was happening, Neville looked between the two adults. Mrs Arrans nodded and said, "It's best that you do what Dumbledore says, Neville. He can explain things better than I can. And you will need to go to London to get all your things for Hogwarts." She turned to Dumbledore and addressed him, "I assume that is where you are taking him?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Naturally, Jane. Although I wish to take Neville somewhere first to discuss certain things."

Mrs Arrans closed her eyes, exhaled slowly and nodded in defeat.

Neville touched her shoulder lightly and whispered, "Thank you. For everything. I will come back."

"I know you will, dear."

Then he turned back to Dumbledore and gripped his left arm, just below the elbow.

--

It was all dark for a while. Neville felt suffocated, as if he was being pressed upon from every direction, and all of his body parts were being sucked back towards the centre of his body.

And as suddenly as the suffocating sensation had started, it finished.

Neville was left gulping down lungful of warm, moist air. He could tell that he was no longer indoors. Opening his eyes a tiny crack, he saw that he was standing in an alleyway, still clinging to Dumbledore's arm. Grinning sheepishly, he let go of Dumbledore and stood back a little. If Neville was honest, he felt very intimidated by the old man.

Still smiling, Dumbledore led the way down the alleyway towards the street. Neville trailed silently behind him. Finally, he decided to ask Dumbledore some questions, just to give him something to do and to try and make sense of what was happening.

"Mr Dumbledore… is it true what you said back in Mrs Arrans office? That I'm a…"

"Neville, I will tell you everything in good time. But now is not the time or the place to be speaking of such things. Please wait until we are safely tucked away in a room where we cannot be found, unless I want us to be found that is." Dumbledore stopped so suddenly that Neville almost walked into him.

"And here we are. Neville, this is The Leaky Cauldron."

There was a small, rather shabby pub in front of Neville. It was tucked neatly between a large bookshop and a record shop, and it was quite obvious that the pub was there. For one thing, it didn't match any other building on the street and for another, there was an odd moaning noise coming through the door. But Neville had the peculiar feeling that only Dumbledore and himself could see this small building. Dumbledore led the way into the pub, looking back over his shoulder and saying to Neville, "I warn you, this may be a bit odd for you, but soon it will all become clear."

Neville followed the old man into the pub. At once, everyone fell quiet. The only noise within the place was the moaning sound, which Neville discovered was coming from someone hiding under a veil.

"Bless us all, it's Neville Longbottom."

A babble broke out in he crowd, people surged forward, eager to touch Neville or to speak to him.

One woman grabbed Neville by the shoulders, hugged him tight and sobbed. Several of the men were patting his back or trying to shake his hand. One man asked Neville if he could get a photograph of him. Neville was bewildered. Who were these people and why did they act like this? And where was Dumbledore?

"Please, everyone. Neville has important business to do today - with me." Dumbledore glared at the crowd. They quietened and started drifting slowly away, back to whatever they had been doing before Neville and Dumbledore interrupted. Dumbledore turned back to the bald old barman he had been talking to.

"Now, Tom, as I was saying. We would need a room please, one where we won't be interrupted."

"Of course, Professor. Right this way if you please."

The barman walked over to a doorway almost hidden in a corner, and opened the door. Neville went through the door and found himself facing a large, winding staircase.

"Straight up, Professor. Room number 14 is free. And if I know you, you'll want to put some enchantments on the room, but please take them off when you're finished. The last person to enchant their room forgot to take the charm off, went home a few days later and anyone else who tried to get into the room had their head turned into a melon. Nasty."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, Tom, some people are rather too cautious. I daresay that St Mungo's was quite busy for a while?"

The barman scratched his ear. "You could say that."

Dumbledore chuckled again, thanked Tom and waved Neville up the stairs ahead of him saying, "Room 14, if you please, Neville."


	5. Understanding

**Disclaimer: I am not JKR, I do not own the Harry Potter universe in any way, I just like to make new things happen in it.  
Please R&R. Thank you.**

When Neville entered room number 14, he noticed that there was very few places to sit: he could either take the bed and leave Dumbledore to sit on the hard-backed chair by the desk, or he could take the hard-backed chair, though he had difficulty imagining Dumbledore sitting on the edge of a bed. Instead of sitting down, Neville compromised by standing in the middle of the room gawking at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore closed the door, reached into his cloak and pulled out a long thin piece of wood - his wand. He started waving the wand around in a complicated sort of way, muttering. Neville didn't understand any of it, and he hardly heard any of it anyway. Turning, Dumbledore motioned to the bed and sat on the chair.

"And now, Neville, I would like to ask you a few things. First of all, do you trust me?"

Neville looked around the room, feeling his face flush. He looked at the faded blue walls and the threadbare cream carpet. There was an odd purple stain by Dumbledore's left foot, and an orange one under the window. Finally, unable to delay the moment of truth any longer, Neville looked into the old man's face.

"Yes."

"Excellent," Dumbledore beamed. "Most excellent. I was worried, of course, that you might think this to be a wild goose chase, as they say. It has happened before. But enough about that. Next I would like to know - do you remember anything of your life with your parents, or has anyone ever told you anything about them?"

Neville shook his head.

"Mrs Arrans only ever said that she found me on the doorstep one morning with a note attached to my blanket saying who I was. I don't remember anything about my parents, but sometimes…" Neville paused, unsure whether to continue or not. He had never told anyone, but he felt as though he could trust Dumbledore and he also thought that if anyone would have any answers, it would be the man sitting in front of him. "Sometimes, strange things happen to me. Like once I was being chased through school, and I suddenly ended up at the op of the fire escape. And if I've had a really bad day, I always dream the same dream. There's a man, he wants to kill me but another man wants to protect me. And there's laughter and a green light."

Dumbledore looked up sharply at this point.

"Always the same dream?"

"Yes. No, it was different once. There were women in it too."

Dumbledore nodded and thought this through. Neville sat quietly, examining the stains on the floor.

"Neville, I believe that the dream you are having is very significant. The fact that it only happens when you have a bad day suggests that it is something that has happened to you when you were very young, something you do not want to remember, but your subconscious remembers. Neville, I believe that this dream is in fact your parents' last moments."

Neville stared, dumbfounded.

"It was indeed a very sad day when Frank and Alice Longbottom died. I knew them well, and such horror and sadness I have never felt. Neville, please do not be alarmed or frightened, but I am going to tell you what happened to your parents on the night that they died."

Dumbledore stood and started to pace the room.

"Your parents were wizards, Neville. Amazingly powerful, and so full of life and dreams for the future. They were Aurors, Dark wizard catchers, and they worked hard to make sure that everyone was safe from harm.  
"There was one wizard, however, who did not care about safety or security or love. His name was Lord Voldemort. When you join our world, Neville, you will come to understand that nobody says his name. You are too young, you do not understand how bad things were - but people are still afraid of him, even ten years after he was destroyed.  
"Destroyed, in fact, by a small boy. The same boy who sits in front of me now."

Dumbledore smiled at Neville and returned to his seat.

"Lord Voldemort was becoming more and more powerful, he was turning people to his side through fear, intimidation and even illegal spells. He targeted many famous wizards and tried to turn them. But many would not, or could not, be made one of his followers. He killed these wizards as they were of no use to him. That fateful night ten years ago, he targeted your parents. I do not know what happened, I daresay nobody knows what happened. I can only tell you what I know and suspect from this point, so please do not take my word as fact.  
"I was at the Ministry of Magic that night, and I was aware when several Aurors and other members of Ministry staff were called out to an emergency situation. The Minister decided that I should go also, and when we got to the village where your parents lived, and I saw the ruined house, I knew what had happened.  
"We found you buried beneath the rubble, beaten and unconscious, but alive. Your parents were not so lucky. The first thing we had to do, even before we began cleaning up the mess and trying to find out what had happened, was to ensure your safety. It was decided that it would be best for you to remain ignorant of your start in life and to grow up as far away from our world as possible until you were ready to join it again.  
"And so here you are, ready to join that world."

Dumbledore smiled at Neville, who was astounded. He had no idea how to deal with information like this. Not only was he a wizard, there was a whole other world opened up to him now and so many possibilities. He also didn't know what to think of his parents deaths. He glanced up at Dumbledore.

"How did I survive but my parents died? They knew more magic than I did, surely they could have saved themselves."

Dumbledore's expression changed to one of pity and sadness. "I do not know why they died and you lived, only that no witch or wizard ever lived when Lord Voldemort decided to kill them. The only exception to that rule is sitting here, in room 14 of the Leaky Cauldron, talking to me."

Neville nodded slowly, unsure of what to say or do.

Dumbledore stood up and walked towards the window. "Would you like to see our world, Neville?" He gestured out the window.

Neville nodded mutely, still in a daze.

--

After lifting the enchantments on the room, promising Tom the barman that nobody would have their head turned into a melon the next time they entered the room and having a conversation with a woman in a green veil, Dumbledore led Neville out to the back of the Leaky Cauldron. There was nothing there except for a large wall and several dustbins.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand once again, and waited.

"I am sorry to keep you waiting when you so desperately want to explore, but I am afraid that I have other business to attend to. Being Headmaster is not an easy job." he chuckled.

Neville gasped. "You're the Headmaster of Hogwarts?!"

"Naturally," Dumbledore replied, "and by being so, I cannot take you any further into the world of magic until you arrive at school. I am waiting for certain trusted friends to arrive who will show you where to go and who will take care of you. Ah, here they come now."

Neville looked over his shoulder. It was the family he had seen earlier that day from the bus - the red-haired woman, the man with the messy dark hair and the boy who looked so like the man.

Dumbledore turned to Neville.

"Neville Longbottom, meet James and Lily Potter and their son Harry. Harry will be in your year at Hogwarts of course, and they will take care of you for today. Alas, I have other places to be." And with that, he turned on the spot and vanished.

The boy, Harry, looked at Neville through round glasses and frowned. "Didn't I see you on the bus earlier?"

Neville flushed and nodded at his feet. He felt a slight pressure on his shoulder and looked up to see that Harry's mother had her hand resting there.

"James, why don't you take Harry to look at the new racing brooms - he'd like that. And then you can take him with you when you go to see Sirius. I'll take care of Neville."

James nodded, pulled out his wand from his pocket and tapped a brick above one of the dustbins. The wall folded back on itself to reveal an arch leading to a long, winding street.

"Neville, this is Diagon Alley, the only place in London where you can get all your school supplies." Lily smiled kindly.

James and Harry had already walked through the arch and were heading towards a shop, calling goodbyes to Neville and Lily over their shoulders.


	6. The Potters

**A/N: Sadly, I am still not JK Rowling. So I'm just going to play about with her invention for a little while longer.  
Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed, added this story as a favourite or on their story alert. It means a lot.  
- K**

"Now the first thing we have to do is go to Gringotts bank," Lily told Neville, leading him towards a building made entirely of white marble, "because that's where all you money is kept. It will be in a vault, deep underground. Now don't worry, I have your key, so you'll be able to get it just fine. But mind that you only take enough to last you for today's shopping trip and your first year in school. If you take too much gold, it might end up in the hands of the wrong person."

He gaped at the white building. By now, they were standing at the foot of a flight of steps, which led up to a set of bronze doors. Following Lily through the bronze doors, past a small creature and through a set of silver doors, he was amazed.

Nervously, he tugged at Lily's sleeve. "Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but was that an elf standing beside the doors?"

Lily smiled at him, "No, that was a goblin. They guard the gold of Gringotts, and they can be a bit temperamental, so don't do anything to annoy them. But don't worry, they are incredibly loyal and as long as you don't hurt them, they won't hurt you."

They had joined a rather long queue, right behind a short woman with flaming red hair, who was busy telling off two flame-haired identical boys.

"How many times do I have to tell you boys, Quidditch is only allowed in school or in the orchard! You nearly knocked Ginny down the stairs again, and poor Ronald… Oh, goodness! Lily, how nice to see you."

"Hi, Molly. Getting everything for Hogwarts as well. Is that all of your lot in school now?"

"No, Ronald starts this year, but Ginny doesn't start until next year. Your Harry starts this year, doesn't he?"

Lily nodded, and Molly continued, "Well, it will be nice for Ronald to have a friendly face there. And… oh you boys! I thought I told you, stop taking Dungbombs out in public!"

The twins had just managed to cause a great stench to fill the hall of Gringotts. Neville covered his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his jacket and tried not to breathe more than was needed. Both twins muttered vague apologies to their mother and tried to look innocent to the passers-by who were glaring at them. They suddenly noticed the small dark-haired boy standing behind Lily.

"Hey, are you?"

"He is."

"How'd you know?"

"I can see, George."

"You sure, Fred?"

Fred scowled at George and then both twins broke into identical grins and turned to Neville.

"So are you?" Fred (or was it George?) asked.

Bewildered, he scowled at the twins. "Am I what?"

"Neville Longbottom," both twins said simply, at the same time.

Neville could feel his face turning bright red and his mouth going dry. He didn't trust himself to speak, so instead he nodded once, eyes fixed on the marble floor.

Neither Molly nor Lily had heard the exchange between the three boys, for both were busy talking to goblins behind the counter and handing over keys.

"Wow. Fred, I think you were right."

Fred looked smug. "Aren't I always?"

Molly came over at that moment and started hustling the boys off in the direction of yet another goblin. The twins went with her, throwing incredulous glances over their shoulders.

Neville was still studying the ground when Lily joined him again. "We're going to go down to your vault first, but then I have to visit mine. I hope you don't mind."

He shook his head.

--

The way down to the vaults of Gringotts was most interesting, Neville decided. To reach the vaults you had to travel in a small cart which ran along a railroad full of twists and turns, not unlike a rollercoaster in a Muggle theme park. The cart was steered by a goblin, and the vaults themselves were huge. The goblin who had been steering their cart opened Neville's vault, and he gasped. There were mounds of large gold coins, tiny bronze coins and silver coins. There was also a few valuable items - a golden sceptre and a silver tiara among them.

Lily explained what the values of the coins were (the small bronze coins were Knuts, the silver were Sickles and the gold were Galleons; twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle and seventeen Sickles to a Galleon), and Neville scooped up handfuls of each coin and placed them into a bag. Then they were back in the cart and headed for Lily's vault.

--

It was very bright outside compared to the darkness of the underground vaults. Neville blinked rapidly, trying to get his eyes to adjust.

Lily smiled brightly. "Now that you've got your money, we can start getting you some of your school supplies."

The first place they went to was Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, as they had a full school uniform to buy.

He had to stand on a stool while Madam Malkin slipped long robes over his head and pinned them to the right length around the hem and cuffs.

When Neville had his uniform, they left Madam Malkin's and Lily decided that the set books should be bought next, so they went to Flourish and Blotts in order to collect the books from Neville's list. Lily knew what they were and had placed the order with a small, balding wizard in red before he had even pulled his envelope of parchment from his pocket.

"Harry starts Hogwarts this year too, I memorised his list because I knew there was no way he would."

They smiled at each other and turned to see the small wizard carrying a large stack of books back to them, huffing and puffing, his face now the same shade as his robes.

--

It was late afternoon by the time they had finished gathering up all the things on Neville's list. Lily had insisted that he join her family for dinner, and so there were now five people crowded around a small table at the Leaky Cauldron.

Neville and Lily were joined by her husband, James; their son, Harry; and a tall dark-haired man with a laugh like a bark. His name was Sirius Black and he was the Potters closest friend, and Harry's godfather.

Sirius pushed away his empty plate and leaned across the table to Neville, who jumped back in fright.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I was only going to say that I hope you have a good time at Hogwarts. I know we did, isn't that right, Prongs?" Sirius winked at James, who grinned.

"Well, best be getting off now. Be good, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes at his godfather. "You always say that."

"And it never seems to make a difference." Shaking his head, Sirius stood up, waved to the rest of the group and vanished out the front door of the pub.

"Well, now that dinner is over, I suppose we should all go as well. Neville, we'll be taking you back home, and you're to stay there until September 1st. That's the date that you start school and we'll be along to pick you up that morning, so make sure you have everything packed," James stood and checked his watch. "There's a bus in 15 minutes, so we'd better hurry."

They left the pub through the same door as Sirius. Tom the barman shook hands with all of them before they left and told Neville that he was welcome back any time.

--

They got off the bus at the corner of Seymour Road, and followed the same path to the orphanage that Neville had taken just that very morning. _Was it possible that so much had changed in a single day,_ he wondered. And then he remembered that he had not asked Dumbledore about the ring he had received, and made a mental note to do so the next time he saw the strange old man.

At the gate of the orphanage, Lily grabbed Neville in a hug, kissed the top of his head and said, "We'll see you very soon, don't worry. And if you have any questions, ask that nice lady who works there. She can contact either Dumbledore or us."

James shook his hand. "Take care of yourself. And don't forget, September 1st, we'll be here for about 9am, so be ready."

Harry hung back, afraid to get too close to such a famous boy, and merely grinned and waved.

Neville, feeling quite choked up by now, waved back.

"Thank you. For everything that you did for me today." He meant it.

He walked up the path and turned at the front door, meaning to watch the Potters walk away, but they had already disappeared by the time he got to the door. He knocked on the door and stood on the doorstep in the cold night air, feeling happy that it was his birthday and that the mystery of his past was finally becoming unravelled.


	7. A New Beginning

**A/N: Thanks to the reviewers, and people who added this to their favourites or alerts. It makes writing this story so much more enjoyable to know that people are actually reading it.  
Usual disclaimer - I am not JK Rowling, I'm just playing with her toys.**

The next day marked the start of a new month, and Neville decided that he should go to see Mrs Arrans. He desperately needed some questions answered.

Searching the house from top to bottom, he finally found her scrubbing in the utility room.

"Neville! What can I do for you, my love?"

He shuffled his feet nervously, sweating hands twisted together behind his back.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you? Alone?"

The tall woman stood and laid the scrubbing brush down on the sideboard. "Of course you can," she nodded, pulling off her yellow gloves and untying her flowered apron.

She led the way down the hall and into her office once again.

Neville sat on the same seat he had been sitting on yesterday when Dumbledore intruded and took him away.

"So, you had a nice day with Professor Dumbledore yesterday, did you?"

Neville nodded earnestly. "Oh yes. He explained everything, all about my mum and dad and how they joined to fight against Vold-"

"Don't say his name, child! Lord, did Dumbledore not already tell you that? Just because he feels secure enough to say the name, we don't all feel that way."

"Sorry, I think he did say that most people were still afraid to hear the name. What should I call him then?"

"Call him You-Know-Who. And try not to talk about him too much, it tends to make people jittery."

He nodded again. "So You-Know-Who. My parents joined the fight against him, but they were killed by him one night, and somehow I survived but they don't know why that is."

It was Mrs Arrans' turn to nod. "Strange thing, my love. Nobody knows why it happened and why he singled out your parents."

"Yes. But he said that the bad dream I have, it might be my parents last moments. But that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"Indeed? Well, go ahead then."

"Mrs Arrans, do you think you could explain to me why you gave me my mother's ring? I mean, I forgot to ask Professor Dumbledore yesterday. And what does 'await your owl' mean?"

Mrs Arrans smiled, "Ah, owl post. I forgot all about that. It's how wizards communicate, we send letters and the owls deliver them. Most owls are very intelligent, and even if you don't put an address onto the envelope, the owl will know where to deliver it to."

Neville nodded. "And my mother's ring?"

She sighed and leaned back into her seat. "It was left in my possession before your mother died. I was a very close friend of hers, but I decided it would be safer to hide in the Muggle world than to risk trying to hide in the wizarding world. So I bought this house with the gold my mother had left in her will, and I did a complicated charm to hide away. I made Alice my Secret Keeper, and only she knew where my house was, so people could only visit if she told them I was living here. Alice was a dear friend to me. After she died, you were left onto my doorstep. Dumbledore knew I was living here of course, and he felt it was best to leave you with someone who knew about the wizarding world to help guide you into it. Afterwards, I started up the orphanage to help other children who had been abandoned or orphaned. But you were my first child Neville, and you remind me so much of Alice. I promised her if anything ever happened that I would take care of you, you know.

"The ring was just an heirloom. Alice wanted it out of the house in case You-Know-Who found them, and took it. She said it would be dangerous to let it fall into the wrong hands, but there's nothing special about it. It's just a pretty piece of jewellery, nothing more, nothing less."

Neville sat quietly for a few minutes pondering all this.

"Did you want to ask something else, dear?"

He shook his head, and rose from the seat. At the door he turned back to her to say thanks, and realised that her eyes were filled with tears. He rushed back to hug her.

"You take care of yourself at Hogwarts, Neville. And make sure that you come back during the summer holiday. And Christmas, if you would like."

"Thank you. For everything you've ever done for me. I'll take care of myself and I'll write to you every week."

She smiled through her tears and ruffled his hair. "Now off you go."

He left the office.

--

The rest of August passed in a blur. Neville had a calendar that he kept pinned to the wall above his bed, and he crossed each day off before he went to bed, the excitement bubbling in his stomach.

The 1st of September dawned. It was a bright, crisp and dry day. Neville was in the attic at 7.15am checking through the old trunk he had found up there.

The trunk had once belonged to Mrs Arrans and now help all of Neville's school supplies; a pewter cauldron, several sets of robes, a winter cloak, a pointed hat, protective gloves, Potions supplies, set of brass scales, crystal phials, a collapsible telescope and all his textbooks, quills and parchment. Everything was there, but he had a few more things to add before he closed the lid of the trunk. First to go in was his new wand. Neville carefully laid it down on top of his cloak, admiring the effect of the cherry wood against the black fabric. He thought back to his day in Diagon Alley with Lily Potter, to when he had bought his wand.

_They entered a small shop; it was very old, the peeling painted sign proclaiming Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. Behind the counter was a frail old man with white hair and extremely pale eyes._

_"Lily Evans, weren't you just in here with your son a few days ago? His wand is working, isn't it?"_

_Lily chuckled. "Yes, of course it is, Mr Ollivander. I'm here as a favour to Dumbledore. Neville is looking for a wand today."  
"Bless me, is that Neville Longbottom?"_

_Neville looked at his feet and nodded his head._

_"My dear boy, such an honour. I remember your mother and father in buying their first wands, it seems as if it were only yesterday. Such a pity, the poor devils." He looked at the boy with his large pale eyes, seeming not to blink, and stare right into the child's eyes._

_Neville took a sudden dislike to the old man._

_"Well, well. Shall we try out some wands then? I need to take your measurements and don't forget - the wand chooses the wizard!" the old man gestured fondly to the large stacks of boxes behind him._

_After what felt like an eternity of waving around strips of wood and feeling nothing other than ridiculous, Neville was handed one more wand._

_"Cherry with unicorn hair, ten and a half inches, nice and supple. Try it."_

_He took the wand in his right hand, and he knew straight away that this was the wand for him. His arm started to tingle, and he felt an urge to raise it to the sky. This he did before swinging the wand down in an arc and sending a shower of gold sparkles flowing from the tip._

_Lily applauded, Mr Ollivander smiled. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Longbottom."_

Neville looked at his wand. It was definitely his, after all, it had chosen him. He liked the wand and couldn't wait to start using it.

Finally, the last thing could be placed into his trunk. He pulled the small box containing his mother's ring from his pocket and laid it carefully beside the wand.

Now, he was ready for the start of his new life.


	8. Hogwarts Express

**A/N:** **Usual disclaimers apply.  
Thanks to the lovely people who have reviewed this fic, and to everyone who added it to their favourites/alerts. And hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, and will be longer than this one.**

* * *

"Neville, the Potters are here!"

The child jumped up suddenly, bumped his head off of the low attic ceiling and started to climb down the steps. Behind him he dragged the heavy oak trunk by one of its smooth golden handles.

Mrs Arrans was standing at the bottom of the steps, arms crossed, smiling. She knew exactly why the Potters had arrived to collect Neville, but the story that the rest of the orphanage had been told was that Neville Longbottom was finally being adopted.

"Got everything packed? Now don't forget, you're welcome to call back anytime during the holidays, I want you to write often and be sure to use a different owl each time you write otherwise people will get suspicious, and take care of yourself, dear." She drew him into a tight, rib-crushing hug. He buried his face in her shoulder and willed himself not to cry. Mrs Arrans was the only parent figure he had ever known, the only person who had ever cared what happened to him. And now he had to leave, go away, and he would never be back to sleep in his old bed or to rush into town with the other children to spend their allowance.

From now on, he would spend his holidays with the Potters. It had all been arranged over the summer by Dumbledore, who felt it best to provide a decent cover-up story for why Neville was not at the orphanage for a large part of the year. He had sent regular owls to Mrs Arrans giving all the details of what was happening, and once he even popped out of the fireplace again to ensure that everyone knew the full plan. From now on, Neville would no longer live in the orphanage. He had a family.

Lily and James were more than willing to take Neville into their home, and Harry was looking forward to having a brother. He had said so in the letters he had sent over the month of August.

Neville himself was looking forward to living as a part of a family, to seeing Hogwarts and learning about magic, to making friends, to making a new start and to finally being accepted by people. He knew he could visit Mrs Arrans anytime he wanted, and that he would always have a special place in her heart. This knowledge warmed him deep inside and made his eyes sting further.

Mrs Arrans ruffled his hair. "Come on, love. It's time to go. If you don't leave now, you'll miss the train and then what will you do."

He looked her in the eyes and smiled. "Okay. And thank you again for everything."

--

"Neville, it's so nice to see you again," James grinned, shaking Neville by the hand. Lily stood in the office by the desk, talking to Mrs Arrans. Harry was standing beside James grinning, a miniature of his father, except for his eyes.

"Well, Lily and I have some things to arrange with Mrs Arrans before we leave, so I'll leave you and Harry to get to know each other better." James ruffled his son's already untidy hair and crossed the room to join his wife.

"So you're coming to live with us, then? What will you do if we're in different houses in school and don't get along?" Harry teased.

Neville tensed. What if they were in different houses? What if the boys didn't get along during the holidays? Would Neville be welcomed back at the orphanage? Some of his thoughts must have betrayed him on his face, because the other boy realised he had made a mistake.

"Hey, I was only mucking about. You know that, right? I mean, I don't actually care if we get put into different houses in school. Though it would be really cool if we were in the same, but it doesn't matter. You'll be my friend no matter what, Neville." Harry looked ashamed. He knew that the boy had had a difficult life, but he hadn't realised just what his immature, thoughtless taunts and teasing would do to him. Harry blamed Sirius. His godfather was reckless, immature and had a tendency to speak before he thought. It was a bad habit that Harry had picked up.

Neville smiled at Harry. "It's okay. I'm just worried that I won't fit in at Hogwarts and that we won't get along."

Harry laughed aloud. "Of course you'll fit in at Hogwarts! Everybody does."

--

The three Potters and Neville climbed out of the blue car which was parked close to the entrance of King's Cross station.

"Got your tickets, boys?" James asked for the third time.

"Yes, I have my ticket. No, I didn't forget my wand or robes. Yes, Mum did remind me to pack clean socks, and I did pack the clean socks. And no, I won't get into too much trouble." Harry rolled his eyes at Neville and grinned.

In a few minutes, the foursome were crossing the car park, pushing two trolleys. One contained Neville's trunk, the other Harry's trunk and owl. Neville was busy admiring the owl, as he had been the entire car journey to the train station. It was a beautiful owl, perfectly snow white with intelligent amber eyes. She was called Hedwig. Harry had told him that it was his birthday present from his godfather. This had made Neville wonder what it was like to have a godfather who bought you presents and wrote you letters, and parents who tucked you in at night, and kissed you goodbye when you left for school, and fussed when you came home again.

"Okay, boys, listen carefully because we're going to have to be careful about how we get through the barrier onto platform 9 and ¾. We can't all go through at once, so we will have to go through in pairs. Harry and I first and then, Neville, you and Lily can follow. Understood?" James looked back at the boys. Two small black-haired heads bobbed up and down in agreement.

James took the lead and Harry tore off behind him. Watching closely, Neville thought back to what James had told them in the car about how to get onto the platform - you had to walk through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. At the last minute, his view was obscured by a large group of rowdy teens running across the platform, pushing and shoving one another. When they had passed, Neville could no longer see either Potter. He glanced nervously up at Lily.

"Come on," she grinned and started to push his trolley towards the barrier. He had to jog to keep up with her, which made the barrier draw closer. It was getting close, far too close. Inches from the wall, Neville clamped his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable pain and noise that came from running into a wall. The crash never came.

The smell of smoke wafted to him, and his eyes flew open. They were on the platform! There was a sign hanging overhead proclaiming this to be platform 9 and ¾; there were families milling about, hugging and kissing each other goodbye; and a magnificent scarlet steam engine stood belching smoke over the whole scene.

Never in his life had Neville ever seen such a beautiful sight, and never had he wanted to be a part of something so badly.

Harry appeared at his side, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. "Come on, slowpoke! Mum and Dad are waiting over there, they want to see you off. And Mrs Weasley wants to see you too."

Neville had no idea who Mrs Weasley was, but decided it was better to follow the boy who was vanishing into the crowd.

He caught sight of a crowd of red-haired people standing with the Potters and realised that Mrs Weasley must be the woman Lily had been talking to in Gringotts.

"Merlin's beard, when you said you had adopted a little boy, I didn't think you meant this little boy!" the red-haired woman exclaimed, flinging herself upon Neville in such a tight hug he thought his ribs might crack.

As soon as he was released by Molly Weasley, Neville had his hands wrung by both twins. "Great to see you again, Neville."

"Yeah, we'll look after you on the train if you want."

"But only if you promise to get sorted into Gryffindor…"

"…because we can't be seen to be friends with Slytherin scum."

"Boys!" Molly cried, outraged. "How dare you? This is his first day in the wizarding world and you will not make things difficult or so help me, I'll make sure things are difficult for you!" She turned to Lily and James to excuse herself, and with that she marched the twins off to the other end of the platform.

"Well, this is it. Off to Hogwarts! Come here, boys," Lily held her arms out to Harry and Neville. "Be good and don't forget to write often." She kissed Harry on the cheek and let him go to James before doing the same to Neville.

James ruffled his son's hair and patted the other child on the shoulder. "Be good, kids. And don't get on the wrong side of Professor Snape, Harry."

Lily glared at James, a look that Neville neither missed nor understood.

The two boys grabbed their trunks off of the trolleys, and with some help from their parents, they managed to get everything loaded onto a carriage of the Hogwarts Express. They leaned out of the carriage door, calling goodbyes and promises to write often and behave properly. Their parents stood on the platform, Lily waving although her green eyes sparkled with tears, James with his arm wrapped around his wife's shoulders.

Finally the train rounded a corner, and the boys brought their heads back into their compartment.

"Damn!" Harry swore, removing his slightly soot-blacked glasses and attempting to clean them on the knee of his jeans.

Neville burst into fits of laughter. He had never seen anything so funny in his life.

--

It was almost an hour later when the boys were joined in their compartment by the Weasley twins and another red-haired boy who could only be their brother.

"Ron wanted to find someone that he knew. The girl in our compartment was annoying him," Fred announced.

Ron's ears turned a violent shade of red, and he muttered something about wishing he was an only child. Fred and George grinned even wider and left the younger boys to themselves.

"She was a right nightmare though," Ron defended himself, flinging his body down into the seat beside Harry, and pulling a packet of sandwiches from his pocket. "A know-it-all." He pulled the sandwiches apart, checking them for corned beef. "She remembered that I hate corned beef!" The sandwich was shovelled into his mouth. "So how was your summer, Harry?"

Harry grinned, "Yeah, it was pretty cool. Sirius got me an owl for my birthday and my mum and dad adopted, so now I have a brother."

Ron groaned. "You don't want one of those. Trust me, I have plenty of experience with them. Stupid, they are. But you know what my brothers are like. What's yours like? Is he younger than you, then?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope, not younger. And ask him for yourself what he's like."

"But I won't see your mum and dad again until June!"

"Ron, have I ever told you that you're a flaming idiot? That's my brother right there, sitting across from you."

Ron looked at the small black-haired boy with the round face sitting opposite him, and promptly choked on the piece of sandwich that was stuffed into his mouth.

"But… but you're Neville Longbottom! Aren't you?"

Neville nodded. Ron stared, his sandwich half-way to his mouth and totally forgotten about.

Harry leaned over to Neville. "Maybe you should change your surname to Potter."


End file.
